


Lifeline; Flatline. (But Your Life Sucks Too)

by astomnus



Category: Lifeline (Video Game 2015)
Genre: Aliens, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Nonbinary Wynn, Other, POV Second Person, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25030453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astomnus/pseuds/astomnus
Summary: hey the fact that lifeline doesn't have a bigger fandom? criminal. the fact that wynn is extremely underappreciated? even more so. anyway i'm about to change all that.inspired by a late night talk with my friends (who also gave me the title name, thanks kayla, you're a real one.)
Relationships: Wynn/Player
Kudos: 3





	Lifeline; Flatline. (But Your Life Sucks Too)

**Author's Note:**

> hey the fact that lifeline doesn't have a bigger fandom? criminal. the fact that wynn is extremely underappreciated? even more so. anyway i'm about to change all that. 
> 
> inspired by a late night talk with my friends (who also gave me the title name, thanks kayla, you're a real one.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so the last time i wrote in the second person? i was in third grade. so this is definitely a new experience and im sorry in advance if it's hard to read. i'll definitely come back and edit this.... eventually.
> 
> also; i don't agree with wynn's feelings about mental illnesses/patients (especially as someone with mental illnesses and a history of hallucinations) but i'm trying to stay close to canon, at least for the main bit, so i'm leaving it in.

It's dark. You think your eyes are open, you think you're awake but... are you really sure?

You blink. Wave a hand in front of your face.

Still— nothing. 

You can tell that you're sprawled out, limbs arranged haphazardly across what feels like cement, cold leeching throughout your entire body. And oh god, everything hurts, and you can't tell which way is up and which way is down, but you try to scrabble upright anyway. It feels like you're moving through a thick jelly. You're not— you're not moving towards anything, you can tell, and you slide back down, panting. It's hard to even think, and you screw your eyes shut. Or, at least, you think you do.

The headache intensifies, until it's a red hot nail driving down your head and into the base of your spine, throbbing with every breath you take, with every heartbeat. The pain sharpens and sharpens and grows hotter and hotter, until you're writhing on the ground clutching your head, thinking _this is wrong_ and _please make it stop, make it stop, I can't handle it anymore—_

And just when it feels like your brains are liquefying inside of your skull, something seems to _click,_ and the pain fades away to a dull whimper.  


Everything still feels weird, so you lie there, desperately trying to catch your breath.

That wasn't— that wasn't a normal kind of pain. 

Something about it was so intensely _wrong_ it makes you want to throw up, to pry whatever's wrong out of your head and fling it to the ground, kicking and stomping at it. That wasn't... that's not how your head is _supposed_ to feel, like a grenade has gone off inside your skull. You shudder and curl around yourself, trying to regain your senses.

And then the ache returns, but quieter. More subdued.

And then...

**_Oh God._ **

**_Where am I?_ **

You stiffen, hands curling into fists. The hairs on the back of your neck raise. Even though you're sure you're alone, completely alone in this unending darkness, for a second you're sure there's someone there, watching over your shoulder. The voice echoes through your head and you cringe, swallowing back the sense of _this isn't right_ running through your head on repeat. Instead you gingerly reach back, and nearly cry at the overwhelming sense of something else in your mind, something that doesn't belong.

 ** _Who is this?_** You think back.

_**Who am** _ **I** _**?** _

_**Who are** _ **you?  
**

_**How are you in my head? You — you're inside my head!** _

_That makes two of us,_ you think quietly to yourself. Everything feels too loud and you just want to crawl back into your own head and sleep until the pain vanishes again. Instead, you ask; **_what do you mean?_**

**_It's like you're murmuring to me — but perfectly loud. And your voice isn't natural. What are you?_ **

You groan, rubbing your head. **_Sorry._** You think to them, trying not to cry. **_Yeah. This might've happened before._**

**_"Might have"? You've gotten into other people's heads? That's... I don't know what to think about it._ **

The other person's voice is robotic, but... in a pleasing way. In a soft, sing-song kind of way. It hurts when the other person speaks. But at the same time, it's nice to know that you're not alone in this. _It's okay._ And then... oh. Maybe the person is nearby? **_Where are you?_**

**_I can't see anything! It's dark, the air is damp. I'm so cold._ **

_**Wait. There's one thing. There's a light on the other side of cracked grass. It flickering and it hurts to look. But — hang on. Let me try and sit up.** _

And if this person can get to their feet, you can too. With every movement you make, the nail drives deeper into your head, but you manage to get to your feet, fumbling around yourself. There's nothing here, nothing around you, so you pick a direction and begin walking. You feel sick, like even the slightest breeze could tip you over.

**_I can't move. Oh God. I can't move. Please, I —_ **

You stop in your tracks, swaying slightly. You furrow your brow in confusion, before shaking your head and continuing on your way. _**Are you hurt?** _

**_No? Yes? I don't know. My head is killing me. My skull's pounding. And I'm so thirsty._ **

**_There's something holding me down._ **

**_Straps. My hands are feet are strapped to the bed._ **

**_Am I hallucinating? Am I imagining you?_ **

And oh, you hope they're hallucinating you. You hope that this is all just some messed up fever dream that you're about to wake up from, or that you'll disperse into mist as soon as the person on the other end of the line finally wakes up. Maybe then your head will finally stop hurting so bad. Maybe. **_Don't worry, I'm as real as I can get. I hope._**

**_You... you hope? Just... please. I just need someone to tell me what's happening. Nothing feels right anymore and I don't know what to do._ **

**_The last thing I remember, I was walking. In sunlight. Desert sunlight. At least, I think so. I was walking, and —_ **

**_ I heard a scream. _ **

**_ I walked towards the sound and— nothing. It's all black. And then more lights. _ **

**_ Oh God. _ **

Finally, you bump into something, and you're so lost in the conversation that it takes you by surprise and you fall backwards, knocking all the breath out of you. You reach out blindly, fingers finding purchase. It's a wall. Except... not. It's flimsy when you press against it, and your probing fingers find a wide, even crack in the surface. A door. You sigh in relief. **_What is it?_** You ask, as you try to get to your feet again, searching blindly for a doorknob.

**_The lights. Shining in my eyes._ **

**_They were operating on me._ **

**_I remember now. They were cutting into my head._ **

**_People standing over me. The sound of a saw._ **

**_Are... are you a doctor?_ **

And gee, you sure hope you're not a doctor. Standing here in a flimsy hospital robe, with no idea of who you are or where you are. **_No, I'm not._** You find the doorknob and hesitantly turn it, gingerly pushing it open. You think it's bigger outside, but you have no idea. Everything is dark and you're hopelessly lost.

**_That's good._ **

**_I... I don't want any more doctors._ **

There's a breeze running across your face and you turn, orienting yourself so that it blows directly into your face. It doesn't smell fresh, or clean, but anywhere is better than here. Anything is better than moving through pitch darkness, every cell in your body screaming that you're going to bump into something, that a monster is going to leap out at you and rend you to shreds. Your bare feet pad against cold concrete, and you close your eyes and beg to every higher power you know that nothing will hurt you. **_Why were they operating on you?_** You ask, if only to distract yourself from the ever-present darkness ahead.

**_I don't know! I can't think. Why can't I think?_ **

You don't know. But you do know that... you feel the same. Trying to think about who you are, or how you got here, is an invitation to whatever wrong pain is coursing through your head to return ten-fold. You don't tell them that, though. **_Don't push it. It'll come to you._**

**_Right. Thanks._ **

**_Breathing._ **

**_It's just hard with this headache. It feels like my head is splitting open._ **

_You and me both, buddy._ With every step you take, you feel more and more likely to bump into something. Like ** _—_** there's something there, right in front of you, and if you take even one more step you'll crash straight into it. You take another shuffling step forward, and another, and gingerly hold one arm in front of you like that would stop a monster from grabbing you and... well. You don't want to think about it. Better to just move forward and hope that you can get out of here. And oh, you're going to die here alone, aren't you? And no one will ever find your body in this limitless darkness and ** _—_**

_**I keep remembering the whine of the saw. And then i woke up here. Trapped.** _

_**I... I don't know how long I was under.** _

_**All I know is that I need to find... someone. God, why can't I remember? Did they give me drugs? I think they gave me drugs.** _

_**...** _

_**Am I going to die here?** _

You release a shuddering breath, forcing yourself to relax. **_You're not going to die._** Neither of you are going to die here, not if you have any say in it. Your foot lands in something wet, wet cold and sticky, and you shudder but continue onward.

**_Okay. But the drugs —_ **

**_ I think the drugs are messing with me. _ **

How long does this passageway go on for? It feels like you've been walking for forever, but at least the breeze is growing stronger now. Though you have no idea what that means for you. You suspect that if you didn't have this other person relying on you, you might just curl up into a ball and never get up again. Instead, you focus more on this mysterious person's plight than your own. **_How about we get those straps off?_**  


**_Yes. Please. I can't take being trapped like this._ **

**_My wrists and ankles are in some kind of cuffs. And the straps.... they run through the rails, under the bed. And then there's the I.V._ **

**_A clear plastic tube. It's running to something behind my head._ **

**_Can you pull on the cuffs?_ **

**_Let me try._ **

And just like that, the other person's voice fizzles out, and you're left alone to traverse the darkness.  


It's not really... _that_ bad. Sure, you just stepped in something and you really, _really_ don't want to think about what it could possibly be. And sure, you're wandering alone, with nothing to orient your blind senses but a faint wind that smells mostly of... something. Something familiar, something that stirs at the back of your mind.

Maybe you are actually blind? It would make a lot of sense. Left down in some abandoned building as a prank, you fell and hit your head on something? It would answer a lot of questions.

But... it doesn't feel right.

You push your theories out of your head and keep going, hoping you're actually going somewhere.

**_ Damn it. They're on tight. _ **

**_ And the I.V. tube burns when I move my arm. My legs can't move at all. It's no use. _ **

The voice actually _scares_ you this time, and you jump. **_Okay, well... try taking a look at the cuffs? Maybe you can unlock them somehow._**  


And up ahead, you think you see a faint bit of light.  


**_ Okay, I'm trying. It's so hard to see in this light. _ **

You creep forward, peering into the dark. It's not your imagination, you're definitely heading towards something. You can see the walls around you now, illuminated in a flickering red light, smooth concrete all around you. There's the faint shape of doors outlined in the walls, but you ignore them for now. Right now, there's only the red light in front of you, and the endless darkness beyond. You take another step.  


**_ All right, there's a buckle on each wrist cuff, but I can't reach it with my fingers. But on my right side, there's the I.V. tube, and I think I can loop the tube under the buckle and flip it open. _ **

**_ But it's going to hurt. There's the needle in my arm. I might start bleeding. _ **

Wincing in sympathy, you hesitate. There's a sound up ahead. It's the first thing you've heard since you've woken up, and you can't place what it is. **_I think you're going to have to try._**  


**_Okay, I'll try. God I wish I could focus my eyes._ **

_Same here._ You squint, trying to see what's at the end of this hallway, but it's all a faint and foggy blur. A red smear on a canvas. You inch forward, wishing you had any sort of weapon. Anything to defend yourself with.

**_It's not working! I can't see it clearly enough!_ **

**_You can do this. Take your time, breathe, and try again._ **

**_You're right. Don't panic._ **

**_Trying again._ **

**_Damn it. I can't... one more time._ **

You shut your eyes and shudder, trying not to think about how that might feel. Ripping out I.V.s are no joke. Embedded deep into a main artery... one could easily bleed out if you're not careful. You have absolutely no idea how you know this, but your arm twinges with a half-forgotten memory.

The light is clearer now, less a half-forgotten mist and more of a bright stain. Focusing your eyes makes the pain sink back into your skull, but your eyes flicker back and forth regardless. There's no sign of movement, just pipes jutting out of a concrete wall, and what looks like a split in the path. The dripping of water leaks into your mind, and when you whip your head around to locate it, it's clear it's coming from the right. Just the sound of water makes your thirst slam into you, your mouth so dry you don't even think you could speak right now if you wanted to. So you turn and orient yourself towards the sound, not even caring if it's water leaking out of some disgusting, half-corrugated pipe.

**_I got it!_ **

**_All right, the tube's under the buckle._ **

**_Shit, this is going to hurt._ **

You wince in sympathy, trying not to break into a run. Just when you're about to offer some sort of sympathy, a scream erupts from whatever mental link you share with this complete stranger. The pain slams back into you full-force, and you drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes, hands over your ears like it'll help. It takes all your strength not to scream in return.

**_Well. That hurt. And my arm is bleeding._ **

**_But at least I'm finally free._ **

**_Let me work on the rest of these restraints._ **

Shivering and panting, you huddle in on yourself. **_Yeah, okay._** The pain flows, ebbing in and out like some fucked-up tide. You want nothing more than to stay here, cement cold against your bare thighs. You want nothing more than to never experience that kind of pain again.

But your mouth is so dry it burns, and everything's fuzzy, and you _desperately_ need water.

So. You get to your feet, swaying, and continue on down the dull red corridor.

It looks like a scene from a horror movie. Red emergency lights flickering dully, casting an ominous glow. There are long stretches of darkness between each light, and you're not sure what's worse. But the dripping noise is getting louder, and there's a door cracked open.

You don't quite step inside, but you do sidle up to it and listen intently.

**_I'm sitting up._ **

**_Dizzy, but at least not tied down._ **

**_God, I feel better. Better, but still awful. I disconnected the I.V. bag. It was empty anyway. I'm keeping the bandage on my arm, though._ **

**_My head is still pounding. And I'm half naked, with just one of those paper gowns. In a freezing room. But at least I'm not strapped down like a mental patient._ **

**_Oh. What if I am a mental patient?_ **

It's incredibly hard to listen when there are unfamiliar words running through your brain, but you _think_ the room is clear. Slowly, you creep inside, shutting the door carefully behind you. **_For what it's worth, I don't think this is something we could imagine. This is all way too messed up for that._** You're in some sort of meeting room, furniture in disarray, the table nearly through the wall. There's an overgrown plant in the corner, some kind of spider plant or fern, that looks like it's been down here for a century. One of the pipes has broken in here, and the water drips down onto a metal chair. But first ** _—_** there's a tiny fridge in the corner.

**_ ...You think so? You never imagined you'd be... brain-linked with some weirdo strapped down to a bed? _ **

Ah. You pause with your hand around the fridge handle. You... you never actually mentioned that you were in about the same situation, did you?  


It doesn't really matter, though. You woke up in an empty room and walked down a dark corridor. No big deal. This person woke up strapped down, with a drug concoction running through their body and obviously at least one non-consensual operation performed on them. There's no use burdening them with what's going on. Your goal right now is to get the both of you out alive, and if that means keeping things from the person on the other end of the brain link? You'll deal with the consequences later.   


**_Nope. I liked to pretend as a kid that I had telepathy powers, but this is a little outside of my scope._ **

You almost hear a chuckle at that.  


**_ Yeah. This is a little... hard to believe. I'm glad you believe me. _ **

**_ But I'm still worried that you're just my imagination. Do you... can you tell me who you are? What's your name? _ **

Bracing yourself, you yank on the handle sharply.

The door flies open, and brings with it a cloud of... actually, you know what? You really _don't_ want to know what that was.

Coughing and spluttering, you take a half-second to look at the contents before shutting the door again. Rusty pipe-water it is.

Climbing onto the chair, you wrack your head for something, _anything_ that tells you who you were. Why you're here. Anything about yourself. But it all comes up blank. There's nothing. Nothing at all, and maybe you are just this person's imaginary friend. So you do what any sane person would do. You cast your eyes across the room and come up with one on the spot. **_My name's Fern._**

**_Fern, huh?_ **

**_It's good to have you with me, Fern, even if I'm making you up. I'm...._ **

**_I'm...._ **

**_Shit._ **

Bracing yourself, you strain upwards, mouth open. The first drop hits your tongue and you wince at the stale metallic taste, but at least it's water. **_You can't remember your name?_** That's... a little odd, considering the circumstances. Maybe you could've fallen down here and lost all of your memory, but the two of you?

Of course, this could be a desperate attempt for your mind to find some sort of comfort.

**_I can't... How can I not know my name?_ **

**_You're Fern. And I'm..._ **

**_Damn it!_ **

You wish there was more water. Something more than the steady dripping. But at least it's something. **_Don't worry, it'll come to you._**

**_No. I need to..._ **

**_Look. My name is...._ **

**Wynn.**

_**My name is Wynn.** _

_**I'm so relieved. For a moment... For a moment, I was gone. Everything. All my memories. Sucked into the dark.** _

_**I can't lose that too. I can't lose who I am.** _

_**...Or you. Yet.** _

_**How** _ **are _we doing this? How are you in my head?_  
**

This isn't working. You're not getting enough water.

If there's a leak somewhere, there has to be a way to strengthen the flow. Or maybe just a place to get more water. A supply closet?

Quietly, you head back to the door, listening intently before creeping out again. _**I could ask you the same thing. One minute it's just me, chilling all by myself in my own head, and the next you're there.**_

_**...That's it? You're just minding your own business, going about your day, and suddenly I'm there?** _

_**Something like that.**_ The hallway is just as ominous as you remember.

**_I... I don't know if I like that._ **

**_But at least I seem to be able to control it. I have to_ want _to talk to you._  
**

**_I'm not a religious person. But when you first answered? I think that I was praying._ **

And oh, that sends shivers down your spine. Because you _weren't._ This person— _Wynn **—** _needed help. And you needed... what. A purpose?

Something about this feels oddly profound, but your head is too fuzzy to linger on that thought for long. **_If you want to stop, that's okay._**

**_Is that possible?_ **

**_It — it doesn't matter, right now. Please. I need your help._ **

**_ I need water, Fern. And painkillers.  _ **

**_ And I don't want to be alone right now. _ **

**_ Alright. I'm not going anywhere.  _ ** Maybe you should be checking the side rooms? **_First— do you remember anything else? Anything at all?_** The more information you have, the better.  


**_ The desert. I remember the desert. _ **

**_ I was walking, looking for someone. Then I heard it...  _ **

**_ There was an animal. Screaming. I think. _ **

**_ It's so hard to remember. _ **

Screw it. You can't help Wynn at all if you pass out from dehydration. The very next door handle you see, you go for, barely remembering to listen first. Sounds clear, although you don't know what you're listening for. **_Who were you looking for?_** You ask, as you swing the door open.  


And immediately regret it.

**_ I don't know. I can't remember. But it must have— _ **

**_ Oh God. Delilah. _ **

**_ How could I have forgotten that I was looking for Delilah? _ **

**_...Take your time,_ **you barely manage. 

You found where all the people went.

And you wish you hadn't.


End file.
